“Morning.” He took off his hat and scrubbed at his hair, mussing it up in a boyish manner.
“How is Mr. Benavente?”
“Failing.” That one word held so much pain, it made Amelia’s heart lurch. “I don’t think he’ll last the day.”
“How is Agatha?”
Boone shook his head as if angry. “Not good. Not only is her husband dying, but Dulce hightailed it off, chasing after Carson.”
“Oh, dear.”
“I swear I hope she finds him. No two people deserve each other more than that pair.” He gave her a sharp look as if suddenly remembering that she herself had “hightailed it” after Carson not long ago.
Boone began wiping down the pristine counter. “Any customers this morning?”
“Just Mrs. Brentwood looking rather glum. I must say I was happy to see her, though I don’t think she was as pleased to see me.”
“Guess this isn’t really the place for some women,” Boone said, his words full of hidden meaning.
“No. It isn’t,” Amelia said softly.
Some emotion flickered in his eyes before he turned away, neatly folding his dusting cloth and putting it in a drawer. “About that proposal…” he started.
“You don’t have to explain. I know you didn’t mean it,” Amelia said quickly.
Boone turned to her, his eyes burning, and for a moment Amelia thought he looked furious. “I did mean it,” he said. “Oh.”
“I’d like an answer.”
Amelia swallowed. “Now?”
His mouth curved just a bit. “Now is as good a time as any.”
Amelia looked around her helplessly, seeing her world shrink to the size of this tiny town, this neat little store, this one man. She felt as if she were being squeezed and squeezed into a box with all sides closing in on her. “I can’t,” she said finally, and watched as his eyes grew dull and cold.
“All right then. The next train out is tomorrow. Start your packing.”
Amelia let out a laugh. “I didn’t mean I can’t marry you, I meant I can’t give you an answer right away.”
Boone felt relief wash over him.
“We need to talk over some things first,” she said pertly.
Then she smiled up at him and he felt the urge to drop to his knees and beg her to stay with him. He just might have if he’d truly thought it would work. For the first time in his life, he had a tormenting glimpse of something sweet and wonderful, but he wasn’t such a fool to believe the dream could come true.
“First,” she said, pulling back on her index finger, “that was not a proper proposal you made. I’m afraid even if the answer was yes, I would have to say no simply on those grounds. Second,” she said and pulled on another finger, “as much as I admire your ability to live, work, and conduct commerce all in the same building, I would like to have a separate house, if possible.”
Boone grinned, feeling himself fall more and more in love with every word she uttered. “That all sounds acceptable.”
“And finally,” she said, as if he hadn’t said a word, “I have to find out if you can kiss properly.” She raised an eyebrow as if she were issuing a challenge.
“I think I could try,” Boone said, feeling his cheeks flush like some schoolboy. “I don’t suppose that other kiss counts as proper?”
“It was quite adequate,” Amelia said primly. “But I do believe you can do better.”
Boone had never flirted with a girl in his life, and he wasn’t sure how to go about such a thing. “I think you’d better show me what you mean,” he said slowly, saying the first thing that came to mind.
Her eyes widened. “Here?”
“No one’s in the store.”
“But someone could walk in any moment.”
“Then we’d better get hidden,” he said, leading her behind a shelf. “Now. Go ahead with your lesson.”
Amelia narrowed her eyes. “You’re making fun of me.”
Boone had been smiling, but his grin slowly faded. “Amelia,” he started, then floundered, ducking his head down. How could a man go about telling a girl that he was completely without experience when it came to lovemaking? What was it about Amelia that made him even consider such an admission?
“Go on.”
“You’re the only girl I’ve ever kissed.”
It was as if he’d just told her he had two heads, that’s how stunned she looked. “But you’re so handsome,” she blurted, then covered her mouth. “Well, you’re not offensive,” she amended. “All right, you’re quite stunning and surely you know it.”
His grin was back. “Stunning,” he said, liking the sound of it.
“Not that stunning,” she said, her eyes sweeping his face as if examining a painting. Her expression changed then, from teasing to something more serious. She reached up and touched his cheek with soft fingertips, and his eyes fluttered closed for a moment. If such a simple touch could affect him so, he wondered what making love to this woman would do. “No, I’m wrong again. You are beautiful.”
Her lovely mouth curved up into the gentlest smile. “I’m going to kiss you now, Dr. Kitteridge.”
She rose up on her tiptoes and, putting her hand to the back of his neck, drew him down for a kiss, drew him toward heaven. She smelled like summer should, clean and fresh and pretty, and she felt like a woman should, soft and warm and lovely.
He moved his mouth against her, pure instinct, pure male need, artless and hungry. The only thing he knew was that he wanted more, wanted to kiss her forever, wanted to taste her and touch her and bury himself inside her. He let out a moan and thrust a hand against the wall to keep from falling as he felt the first timid touch of her tongue against his. Her hands clutched at his neck, pulling him close, and she let out sounds that nearly drove him mad with need.
He was growing painfully hard and tried to resist the urge to pull her against his arousal, but she was so pliant, so willing, he found himself putting one hand around her lower back, the other still braced on the wall, and pulling her toward him.
“Oh, Boone,” she breathed against his mouth. “Touch me.”
“Where?” he asked, nearly in a panic. Where should he touch her that was even remotely proper? They were in his store, after all, and anyone could walk in on them. He hadn’t thought past the idea that he wanted to kiss her. But this was more than a kiss, this was blatantly, wonderfully, frighteningly carnal. “Where should I touch you?” he said, not recognizing his own voice.
“Wherever you want,” she answered, kissing his neck, moving against him.
Wherever I want? Is she insane?
“What I want to do and what I can do are completely different things,” he said, breathing harshly.
Amelia stepped back flat against the wall, looking horrified. “Oh, goodness,” she said, holding her hands against her cheeks. She looked at him as if he were some sort of magician who had cast an evil spell upon her. Then she giggled, gazing up at him. “Oh, Boone, that was quite, quite wonderful. I do believe that was a proper kiss.”
And then something came over him, or perhaps it was just the rubbery feeling in his knees, but he fell to one knee and pulled her against him, his face turned, his eyes shut.
“Marry me,” he said, lifting his gaze to her, not caring that his eyes burned, that he was laying his heart at her feet.
“Yes, I will marry you.”
A woman would have to be made of stone to reject such a proposal after such a kiss. And as Amelia had found out, she was not made of stone.
Her physical reaction to his kiss was nothing less than astounding. Had she really begged him to touch her anywhere? If he had, she would have welcomed it, helped him, led him down a path that could only end one way. When he got down on one knee and asked her to marry him, it seemed so right.
But now, standing awkwardly beside a man she hardly knew in front of her brother and his wife, she felt all the uncertainties come flooding back.
“Boone has asked me to marry him an
d I have agreed,” she said, unaware that her voice sounded strained, as if someone were holding a knife to her throat and forcing the words from her mouth.
Maggie let out a squeal and rushed over to Amelia, pulling her in for a hug. “I’m so happy for you,” she said, as if the announcement were a total surprise. Then she turned to Boone and pulled him in for a rather awkward sisterly hug. “Welcome to the family.”
“You’ve made the right decision,” Edward said, far more formally. He shook Boone’s hand solemnly.
If anyone thought it odd that the engaged couple looked strangely unhappy, no one said a word.
“We could go to Abilene and get married there,” Boone was saying, which made it all more real. “Or I can fetch a preacher from Hanover.”
She wished he would kiss her again to make her feel that wonderful sense of rightness. A creeping panic began to envelop her, a silent scream that she had just agreed to change her life irrevocably. She would live in Texas with the man standing next to her, a man she didn’t love, but who could at least kiss well. When Edward and Maggie got on the train to leave, she would likely never see them again. She wouldn’t see her little cousins; they’d never know their aunt.
For some reason, those thoughts hadn’t occurred to her when she’d left England all those weeks ago to marry Carson. Which was why it was perfectly understandable when she burst into tears and threw herself into her brother’s arms, completely unmindful of how this would make Boone feel.
“Pre-wedding jitters,” Maggie said with false cheer.
Edward held Amelia, patting her on her back while she shed copious tears. “It’s been a trying two days,” he said weakly.
Boone stood there like a fool watching the woman he was going to marry sob into the shoulder of her brother not seconds after announcing, rather reluctantly he thought, that they were getting married. Where was the woman who’d been so willing in his arms? At least he’d thought she’d been willing. Perhaps her brother was putting undue force on her to wed him, and he was simply gullible enough to believe she wasn’t horrified by the thought.
“I’m not crying because of Boone,” Amelia said, her voice watery. “I’m crying because I’m going to miss you and the children. It’s so final. I never thought about it, not really.” She looked at Boone, her blue eyes wet with tears, her dark lashes spiky. “Oh, Boone, what you must think?”
Boone shook his head and lied. “I’m not thinking anything.”
She gave him a stern look. “Yes, you are. But you’re wrong. I do want to marry you.”
Though he wasn’t convinced, Boone accepted her words at face value. “I have to go check on Mr. Benavente. Can you watch the store for me?”
Amelia gave him an uncertain smile. “Of course.”
After he’d gone, Maggie looked at Amelia with a bit of exasperation. “You have to start being more aware of how your actions affect others,” Maggie said. “Men are far more fragile than we women would wish. Honestly, if I give your brother the tiniest frown, he thinks I’ve fallen out of love.”
“Not true,” Edward said. “It takes a scowl, not simply a frown.”
“I shall be a terrible wife,” Amelia moaned. “And of course, Boone shall be the perfect, kind, thoughtful husband. I shall make him miserable.”
Edward laughed. “Do you know he told me the opposite? That you would make him happy, but he would likely make you unhappy?”
“He said that? It would be nice if we made each other happy,” she said with a hint of melancholy.
“I’m certain you’ll both be happy,” Edward said, but his words sounded forced and his smile didn’t reach his eyes.
In August when the sun was the hottest, all the businesses in Small Fork, such as they were, closed down for a few hours. During that time, people ate cold lunches and tried to do as little as possible. Maggie, Edward, and Amelia sat by the fountain and held their hands in the cool water, periodically bathing their faces and necks.
“It’s rather hellish, is it not?” Edward asked.
“I’m getting a bit used to it,” Amelia said, sounding amazed. “When I first got here, I actually fainted. Can you imagine me fainting? Of course, I was wearing wool and a corset. I’ve learned that summer muslin is the only fabric one should wear in Texas. Boone’s not bothered a bit by the heat.”
“It’s like sitting in an oven,” Maggie said.
“I do hope for your sake that Boone considers my offer to move to Hollings.”
“What?” Amelia asked, feeling a thrill of excitement.
“He didn’t tell you?”
“No. He didn’t,” Amelia said, her heart sinking slowly. Certainly if Boone planned to move to England he would have mentioned it when he’d asked her to marry him.
“I spoke out of turn.”
“Yes, you did,” Maggie said, glaring at her husband.
Feeling depressed, Amelia let her hand trail in the water. “I think I shall visit with a friend of mine, if you don’t mind.”
“We’ll be here. Cooking.”
Amelia laughed, appreciating that her brother was trying to make her feel better. “I’ll return when you are medium well. Perhaps one hour?”
There was something wonderfully calming about Julia Benson and her little fairy-tale house. Amelia had been to visit her new friend twice now, and this time Julia opened the door and stepped back without a word.
“What has happened?” Julia asked, when Amelia sat down in her only chair.
“It seems I’m engaged,” she said, sounding rather stunned.
“Carson came back?”
Amelia felt her cheeks blush. How unseemly it would look to people to have her marry the brother of the man she’d come to marry. “No. Someone…else.”
Even with her scarf on, she could tell Julia had a puzzled expression.
“For goodness sakes, Julia, it’s Dr. Kitteridge.”
“Boone?” she asked, as if there was more than one Dr. Kitteridge living in Small Fork.
“It seems that is the best solution to my dilemma. I cannot return home without a husband and he did propose. Twice.”
Julia lowered her head slightly and became quite still. “You’re leaving. With Boone?” She clutched her hands together in her lap so fiercely, Amelia frowned.
“No, we’re staying here,” Amelia said, suddenly wondering if Julia had more than a doctor-patient attachment to Boone. It would certainly be understandable, given how kind Boone had been.
The older woman relaxed visibly, making Amelia’s heart wrench for her. If she were in love with Boone, no doubt her heart was breaking to hear news of the engagement.
“You would certainly miss your doctor,” Amelia said evenly.
“Yes, I would. But it’s more than that,” Julia said, rising and going to the home’s only window. “Boone does more than care for my face. He protects me.”
Julia stood in silhouette, the late afternoon sun glowing around her, the bright glass pieces making her look almost as if she were standing underwater in a fantastical colorful pool. The vision of her was in stark contrast with her tense body, the terrible way she clutched her arms around herself.
“He protects you? From whom?”
“As long as Boone is here, my husband won’t come back. He’s scared of Boone.”
Amelia raised her brows in surprise. “Of Boone?”
“Maybe I’m wrong. Maybe he’s dead somewhere. I hope so. But I feel safer with Boone here. I’m glad you’re staying, and I’m glad you’re marrying him instead of Carson.”
Amelia let out a laugh. “That’s nice to hear. For a moment I thought you held a tendre for Boone.”
“No. I’m no good for anyone anymore,” she said, and Amelia wondered again if Julia was in love with Boone.
Julia turned away from the view of the endless plains she was staring at. “Just thought I’d tell you the truth. Carson is a good man, but he’d be a terrible husband. People don’t know what I see. They think just because I got hurt
that I can’t hear or understand what’s going on.” She shrugged. “People are plain stupid sometimes.”
“Do you really think your husband wants to hurt you again?”
“He wants to kill me,” she said simply. “He meant to the first time, and I think he won’t quit ’til he does. He will, too. Someday. Even with Boone here. There are rumors he’s been in Abilene, just biding his time. I’ve heard he was in Hanover for a time. That’s just one town over. I got me a gun, just in case. And I can see people coming from any direction here.”
“Why would he kill you? You must be mistaken.”
“Sometimes I wish he would show up so I could kill him first,” she said calmly. “So. When are you getting hitched?”
Amelia laughed, liking the way Julia so abruptly changed the subject. “I don’t know. Soon, I suppose. I’m quite certain my brother wants to see me safely married before he continues his wedding trip. And Small Fork was not on their original itinerary.”
“Boone’ll probably go fetch that preacher over in Hanover. He comes here once a month and gives us a sermon in the hotel. Hanover’s not but a two-hour ride west. You could get married tomorrow if you wanted.”
“That fast? Goodness, it’s a bit more complicated back home,” she said.
“It’s easy to get married. It’s the unmarrying that’s hard,” Julia said pragmatically.
Julia then urged Amelia to talk about England, the cool sea breezes, the winter storms, the snow that sometimes fell, her little cousins whom she so desperately missed. It felt good to have someone simply listen to her without saying a word. She told things to Julia she had never told another soul, about those terrible lonely days after her parents died, and her absolute belief when she was young that she was cursed.
But she didn’t talk about Boone or Carson or her despair at living in Texas for the rest of her life.
Chapter 12
Reverend Harley Beaumont was nothing like any man of the church Amelia had ever seen. He wore a leather vest, heavy spurred boots that jangled when he walked, and atop his full head of silver hair sat a large white hat quite unlike any that had ever graced the head of an Englishman.
Jane Goodger Page 16
